


Gonna Be Death of Me

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Panties, Sam In Panties, Stanford Era, Stripping, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, implied bottom Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 07:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11375826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sam sends Bobby a video while he's at Stanford.





	Gonna Be Death of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2017  
> Square Filled: SamBobby

_“I miss you Bobby. I know you were really happy when I got accepted, but I—“_ Sam stopped speaking for a moment, looking down. He looked back up at the camera and smiled. _“I just miss you. I kinda wish I’d applied somewhere closer. It’s only been a few months but—It feels like a lifetime.”_ He cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair.

Bobby could see the barren dorm room, a single bed that he knew was too small to fit the ever growing Winchester, and a few small photos he knew were of Dean, and probably himself.

 _“I’m coming back for Christmas. Don’t tell Dean or Dad, I—I guess I know you don’t speak to them anymore but, just in case. I don’t want them to know. I want this to be a holiday just for us. And I’m already saving up for the ticket, so don’t you_ dare _tell me not to come, okay?”_ Sam smiled almost shyly. He glanced at something off camera before looking back. _“I got a surprise for you, Bobby.”_

Sam stood up and took a step back, nearly bumping into the bed in his hurry. He was wearing a baggy red Stanford hoodie that nearly swallowed him whole, and a pair of jeans so threadbare that Bobby worried they’d fall to pieces if he moved too fast.

But Sam was doing anything but moving fast. He grabbed the edge of his hoodie, slowly tugging up, up his frame and over his head, patting his too-long hair down when he pulled it off.

Bobby’s breath caught in his throat.

 

When Sam left John and Dean, he’d gone first to Bobby’s house. He’d stayed with him for a few weeks until it was time to fly off to Stanford – not that John knew that. After Sam explained what John said to him, Bobby called him up, told him never to bother Sam again. When John showed up at his door two days later, Bobby nearly shot the man.

When Sam showed up on Bobby’s porch, sobbing and scared, he’d been small. Muscles were there, but they were defined – still soft from Sam’s refusal to work out and participate in the heavy lifting of the hunts unless John forced him to.

 

But now – now Sam was a sight to behold. His stomach was solid, the starts of a six-pack forming. The muscles in his arms bulged; he’d been lifting weights, clearly.

Sam laughed, drawing Bobby’s attention back up to his face on the screen. He was squeezing the back of his neck – a nervous tic.

_“They have a great gym here and I love working out. I’ve gotten a lot bigger. I bet I could even beat you in arm wrestling now.”_

He flexed his arms, showing the bulging biceps. His arms dropped and he ran his long fingers over the button of his jeans.

 _“And, I—Got you something else,”_ he whispered, so quiet that Bobby had to turn up the volume.

Sam popped the button and slid down the zipper of his jeans. Ever so slowly, he wiggled his hips, shimmying out of the jeans. He looked sexier than any stripper that’d ever given Bobby a lap dance; almost any woman – or man – that had tried to seduce him.

Bobby’s breath caught. He blinked a few times, his cock twitching to life in the confines of his jeans. As Sam wiggled out of his jeans, more and more of his underwear peeked out. Instead of the normal boxers or briefs Bobby was used to seeing the boy run around in, Sam was wearing the tiniest pair of panties he probably could have found. They were an almost blinding pink, glowing against Sam’s pale, clean shaven stomach. They hugged his hips perfectly, allowing his hipbones to jut, that perfect V that Bobby had traced so many times with his tongue, clean and taunting. They were nearly see through, save for some embroidered polka dots splattered across the fabric. Sam’s cock was thickening up already, tucked against his hip, his balls pushing the fabric out dangerously far.

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Bobby grumbled, palming his erection through his jeans. He had the mind to call Sam up now, make him listen to the sounds he was pulling out of his boyfriend so far away. But he didn’t – Bobby knew why Sam did this. It was supposed to make up for the time apart – the time Bobby knew Sam would need to have no contact – to normalize his life as best he could. Bobby understood that, and wanted nothing more than to respect his wishes.

 

On screen, Sam had kicked his jeans off and was sliding his hands over the fabric. _“It feels so nice. When I come home for Christmas—I’ll bring these. I’ll let you take them off me. Nice and slow.”_

As he spoke, he began to stroke himself through the panties, his hips twitching to a rhythm no one could hear.

 _“Bobby, I miss you,_ ” Sam whispered, looking into the camera. _“I know I needed to do this – but I miss you. Your smile, your jokes, your food… Your hands. Your cock—“_ Sam’s breath caught and his hips jerked forward, his cock twitching. It slipped out of the fabric binds Sam had stuffed it into, peeking over the top and drooling precome onto his hip. He stepped forward and angled the camera up a little more before hoisting himself up onto the bed, legs splayed apart, long and coltish.

Bobby didn’t bother hiding his grunt when Sam shoved the panties down under his balls, leaning back to stroke himself slow and easy. He undid his own jeans pulling his cock out to stroke in time with Sam, drinking in every inch of his body he could see on the screen.

Sam moaned and writhed on the bed, calling Bobby’s name quietly as he jerked himself off. He stopped just long enough to wiggle the panties off his hips, kicking his bare feet up on the edge of the bed and spreading his thighs. His fingers slid down over freshly shaven skin to his hole and Bobby heard him gasp as they brushed over it.

 _“I miss you_ ,” Sam whispered again.

“I miss you too, kid,” Bobby responded to the empty room. He’d begun to stroke himself faster, keeping just a little quicker with Sam – his stamina always beat Bobby’s, even when they were together.

Sam was fingering himself on screen, two buried deep in his ass and stretching himself open. Small mewls filled the room as Sam chased his orgasm, spread out for Bobby to witness.

 

Though it didn’t surprise Bobby one bit, Sam came first. His back arched off the bed, a high cry slipping from his lips. He angled his cock so the thick, hot ropes of come were visible on screen, splattering onto his hand and the bed between his thighs.

Bobby came soon after, spilling into his closed fist as he huffed Sam’s name into his own empty living room.

  
Sam sat up, his tongue slipping out to lick come from his hand. _“I hope you liked that. I’m gonna be kinda busy, so I won’t call but—I miss you. And once I get a free minute, I’ll give you a call, okay Bobby?”_ He smiled a little. _Talk later and uh, enjoy this._ ” He winked before reaching up. The screen went black for a second, then static.

Bobby sighed softly, cleaning himself up before taking out the tape. Damn kid was going to be the death of him, he thought as he tucked the tape safely into the locked drawer of his desk. But he’d sure go out happy.


End file.
